


Are you Sure?

by eenpointe



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eenpointe/pseuds/eenpointe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is grinning ear to ear, his smile somehow coming off as evil. “I think this is meant for you, Allison,” he snickers. “It was in one of the pizza boxes.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you Sure?

**Author's Note:**

> Total fluff based off a post I found on tumblr.  
> Thank you Elizabeth for fixing mistakes!

 

Allison is a busy girl.

She has a lot of things she needs to do, and her mind is whirling nonstop. The first thing she needs to do is call her dad and ask him what kind of cleaner he suggests for her brand new bow—the one that Stiles made her drop in the mud. That boy just can’t go five minutes in the woods without yelling as loudly as he can about how he _thinks_ he sees something. Unless, of course, Scott is with him—then he just complains about having to be in the woods when he could be playing video games or eating pizza.  

Thinking about food makes Allison realize she hasn’t eaten all day, and it’s almost four. She sighs, pulls out her phone, and decides that calling her dad will have to wait a little bit longer.

She dials up the local pizza place, her mind beginning to wander for the umpteenth time as she places her order. She promises herself that she’ll call her dad as soon as she’s eaten. After all, he usually cleans all his handguns on Friday afternoons and probably won’t mind the distraction. Especially since he hasn’t seen Allison since she left for her second year of college, and that was over two months ago. She knows he misses her and would gladly stop his cleaning to talk to her, even if it is about her bow.

Allison is pulled out of her thoughts abruptly by a voice in her ear asking her something. She jumps slightly, then mentally kicks herself for forgetting she’s on the phone.

“Um,” she clears her throat, “sorry, what was that?”

“One large plain pizza with extra cheese; that’s what you ordered, correct?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” she confirms, nodding even though the other person can’t see her. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. It’ll be over in about half an hour.”

It’ll take half an hour? Maybe she should go ahead and call her dad while she waits—but he might get carried away and she might still be on the phone when the pizza gets there. _But on the other hand—_

“Ma’am, are you still there? Your pizza will be over in half an hour.”

“Oh!” Allison exclaims, embarrassed that she let her mind wander yet again. “Yeah, of course—you’ll be here in half an hour. Um, okay—thanks. Bye, love you!”

She isn’t stupid; she’s just distracted—that’s it.  But distracted or not, the dead silence on the other end of the phone makes her pause and go through a mental checklist of the things she just said. _“Oh, yeah, of course_ ” well, there isn’t anything wrong with that. _“You’ll be here in half an hour”_ still nothing wrong. _“Um, okay—thanks”_ still good. _“Bye, love you!”_ and… there’s the problem.  Allison bites her lip, unsure whether or not she should hang up. She’s about to burst out an apology when the guy on the other end speaks.

“Love you, too.” Click. The line goes dead.

_Did he just say “love you” back? Yep, he did._ Allison sets the phone down, completely bewildered, and decides to call her dad after she eats and is no longer burning with embarrassment (although she’s pretty sure that won’t wear off for a couple more hours).

She shoves the conversation with the pizza guy to the back of her head and busies herself with cleaning up around her apartment. She ends up carefully chipping away at the dried mud on her bow, all the while muttering about Stiles and his tendency to drop things.

It’s not that she doesn’t love him just as much as the rest of the pack, but she can’t seem to trust him with any of her weapons.  Her crossbow? He almost shot Scott with it. Her Chinese ring daggers? He dropped one of them and almost stabbed Lydia with the other.  The last bow she had? Stepped on it, snapped it clean in half. That’s why she got the new one—which he proceeded to drop the day after she bought it. Next time, she was definitely asking Lydia to hold it.

Allison finishes wiping off most of the crusted mud, but a frown creeps onto her face when she sees the remaining mud. It looks like it got rubbed into the wood at some point, probably on the car ride back. _Great,_ she thinks, _just what I needed._

She goes to the sink, frustrated, and washing her hands. She’s drying them off when someone knocks on the apartment door. She checks the clock and quickly registers that thirty minutes have passed since she accidentally professed her love to the pizza guy. She knows the pizza shop is a small one, and it doesn’t have a lot of employees.

She prays that the delivery guy isn’t the same one who took her order.

Allison dodges around the shoes littering her hallway (her bow had distracted her, and she hadn’t had time to clean them up) and pulls open the door to be greeted by a tall, handsome guy around her age with curly blonde hair and a bright smile holding a box of pizza. She pats her pockets for her wallet and frowns when she doesn’t find it.

“Shit,” she swears under her breath. She shoots an apologetic smile at the delivery guy. “Hang on, I need to grab my wallet.”

She turns back down the hallway, hopping awkwardly to avoid the things cluttering her home, flushing when she hears a quiet laugh from behind her. She scrabbles to her room and digs through her messenger bag for her wallet. (She had stopped carrying purses when she realized that it was much easier to access her ring daggers if they were at hip level.)  She finds it quickly and she rushes back to her door, making the delivery guy laugh (not unkindly) again when she stumbles on a combat boot.

“Hey, sorry about that,” she laughs nervously. “I haven’t had a lot of time to tidy up recently.” She blushes as she pulls out her money and exchanges it for her pizza. God, it smells good.

“I’m not judging,” the guy says, grinning. “There’s nothing wrong with a messy apartment. I actually think it makes it feel a homier.”

Allison laughs and ducks her head, smiling. “Thanks for the pizza,” she beams. “Have a nice day!”

The guy tips his head and smiles back at her. “You’re welcome—and you too.”

Allison closes the door, a strange tingling feeling in her chest that she hasn’t felt since she was with Scott. She shakes her head and makes her way into the kitchen, setting down the pizza on the counter and grabbing a plate and a can of soda.

She’s getting started on the pizza when a gob of gooey cheese falls off her slice and into her lap, right on the jeans Lydia just bought her. Swearing, she grabs a handful of the napkins that came with the pizza and starts to wipe away the cheese.  She stops when she notices ink on one of the napkins, and she sets the handful aside. She snatches another napkin and hastily cleans up the cheese before investigating the inked napkin.

A closer look tells her that the ink isn’t a random mistake. Someone in very careful, neat, handwriting had written down,

_“This might be extra cheesy, but I think you’re a great slice!_

_Sincerely,_

_The delivery guy who you professed your love for while ordering pizza_

_(a.k.a – Isaac)_

_P.S: You sound really cute when you’re distracted”_

Allison feels her cheeks color and she (carefully) shoves the napkin away from her returning to her pizza, trying to ignore the tingling feeling that is once again making an appearance in her chest. As she eats her thoughts begin to wander (something they’ve been doing a lot today).  The note said “sincerely, the delivery guy who you professed your love for while ordering pizza” which means that the guy on the phone and the delivery guy were the same person. No wonder he kept laughing at her—she was the weird person who told him she loved him.

Feeling doubly embarrassed, she tucks the napkin into one of her kitchen drawers and doesn’t mention it to her dad when she calls him later.

 

-

 

It isn’t until four days later, when Allison is craving pizza again, that she remembers that the pizza guy—Isaac—said I love you back.

It’s pack night, and everyone who can make it will be coming over to Allison’s apartment for food, games, movies, and undoubtedly a lot of arguing. So far, she’s pretty sure only Scott, Stiles, and Lydia are coming over, so she decides to order three pizzas and some soda for everyone.

She doesn’t know what makes her call the local pizza place when she knows Scott and Stiles like Papa John’s better, but she finds herself dialing the number. She hears a familiar voice in her ear, and she quickly places her order, hoping that he doesn’t recognize her.

Luck, however, isn’t on her side. Isaac’s voice goes straight from professional to teasing, and she can almost hear him smirking. “So, are you going to profess your love to me again? Or was that a one-time-only thing? And what was your name? I didn’t catch it during our first lovely encounter.”

(Allison is thankful that they’re on the phone and not face-to-face because she can practically feel her cheeks turning bright red already.) “It’s Allison, and seeing as to how this is only the third time we’ve spoken, I’m going to have to go with a one-time-only thing,” she retorts. “And let’s not forget that you said it back.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he laughs. “Maybe I didn’t want you to feel rejected.”  

Allison is about to make a snarky comment about what a gentleman he is when the line goes dead. He seems to have a habit of hanging up at the worst times for her and the best times for him.

Allison wants to have a negative opinion about him—she wants to think he’s rude— but she can feel the tingling in her chest again and she doesn’t quite know what to think about it. Not that she has time to think about it, that is, because someone is leaning on the doorbell and she can already tell it’s Stiles.

She scrambles down the hallway and pulls the door open. Sure enough, Scott is there grinning at her, holding up two six packs and Stiles standing next to him, rubbing at the back of his head. Scott probably just smacked him, she deduces. She ushers them in, taking the beer from Scott and giving him an apologetic smile.

“I ordered soda with the pizza because I don’t want a bunch of drunken-ass people tearing up my apartment,” she explains. “This is going in the fridge, and it’s not coming out until you’re leaving with it.”

Scott shrugs cheerfully—it’s not like the beer was for him, anyway, but Stiles sighs heavily and shakes his head in mock disappoint. He glances around the kitchen and the small living room, his nose wrinkling. “Are we the only ones here?” he asks, sounding almost whiney. “Who else is coming over tonight? When are they getting here? You said something about pizza. When will that be here?”

Allison smiles and shakes her head fondly at Stiles. It had taken a year or two, but she was finally used to his rapid-fire questions. She was also used to his habit of dropping her things, but she wasn’t going to say that to his face.

“Yes, you’re the only ones here, but I’m pretty sure Lydia is coming over.  She should be here any minute now, and the pizza will be here in about twenty.”

Stiles gives her a brief nod, already moving off into the living room, no doubt to set up some video game he brought. Scott trails after him, leaving her to stash the beer and get out paper plates for when the pizza arrives. Today is yet another day that Allison is distracted, so she doesn’t realize that when she gets the plates out, she leaves the napkin sitting in the drawer.

She hears her doorbell ring just after she deposits the plates on the table, and she hurries down the (now clean) hallway to open the door for Lydia. The redhead’s arms are full of various bags of snacks and her purse. She steps inside and beams at Allison, giving her the best one-armed hug she can manage with her arms full, and the two girls make their way to the kitchen.

They rip open the bags and and begin dumping the snacks into the biggest bowls Allison has, fully aware that the boys will eat all of them. They each grab a bowl to take into the other room, when the doorbell rings for the third time that night.

Lydia stops and raises an eyebrow at Allison. “I thought it was just going to be us and the boys. Who else is coming over, Allison?”

Allison flushes a bright red at her friend’s suggestive tone and shakes her head. “It’s the pizza guy, Lydia.”

“Then why are you blushing?” her friend challenges, setting down one of the bowls so she can place a hand on her hip.

“I’m not, damn it,” Allison grumbles. “Would you please take these into the other room? I have to get the pizza.”

Ignoring Lydia’s doubtful “hmm”, she hurries to the door and opens it to a sight she didn’t realize she wanted to see until that moment. Isaac is standing on the doorstep, grinning down at her, holding a stack of pizzas and a couple of two liter bottles of soda.

How did a guy like him end up delivering pizza, anyway? Even in his uniform, he looks like he just came from a magazine shoot. Or the filming of a pizza commercial—he was definitely attractive enough to be an actor.

“Hey, Allison, do you plan on paying for this pizza or standing there staring at me?”  Isaac asks, raising his eyebrows and interrupting her thought process. “I’m not opposed to you admiring me, but I can’t stay here all night. I’ve got other pizzas to deliver, you know.”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just—um, nothing,” she stammers. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry.”

She hates that she blushes so easily and she hates that she can feel that tingling in her chest again. Now is not the time to have a crush on the attractive, teasing pizza guy.

She digs into her pocket and hastily pays, tips, and thanks him for the pizza, trying (and failing) to ignore the wink he sends her way before the door swing shuts. She returns to the living room, where Scott and Stiles immediately jump to their feet and help her with the pizza. They’re both clamoring on about how hungry they are when Lydia calls from the other room.

“Hey, Allison, come here—I need to talk to you.”

Allison flashes a smile at the boys and walks into the kitchen to find Lydia standing with one hand on her hip and the other hand holding up… a napkin.

“Was that “Isaac” just now flirting with you at the door?” she demands, her piercing gaze boring into Allison’s skull.

“Lydia,” she groans, “where did you find that?”

“I found it in the drawer when I went to get the napkins that you forgot,” her friend replies. “Now answer the question. Was that Isaac that you were getting blushy over?  When did you profess your love for him? Is he your boyfriend? Why did you get a boyfriend and not tell me? You should have invited him in. I want to meet him.”

Allison stares at her best friend and sighs. Lydia can be almost as bad as Stiles, sometimes.

She reaches over and gently takes the napkin from Lydia, being careful not to tear it. “Lyds he’s not my boyfriend, and it’s kinda long story.” She sighs again, recognizing the look on the other girl’s face. “And of course, you probably want me to tell you said long story, don’t you?”

Lydia places her now free hand on her other hip and raises her eyebrows in an “I’m waiting” sort of way.

Allison takes a deep breath and starts at the beginning, telling Lydia about the day she was distracted, the mistaken “love you”, the napkin, the feeling in her chest, the attraction, and the playful teasing.

By the time she finishes, Lydia is smirking. “Sounds a lot like when you started liking Scott, huh? You got a crush, Ally?”

Allison is thankful for Scott walking in and saving her from having to answer that question—that is, until she sees what’s in his hand. It’s a napkin. It’s a napkin that has handwriting on it that she may or may not be familiar with because she read it over and over again on a different napkin.

Scott is grinning ear to ear, his smile somehow coming off as evil. “I think this is meant for you, Allison,” he snickers. “It was in one of the pizza boxes.”

Allison and Lydia both reach for the napkin at the same time and Scott quickly tosses it on the counter and back outs of the kitchen to avoid conflict. Smart kid. Allison snatches it immediately and backs away from Lydia while she reads it.

_“You sounded a little distraught on the phone when you said we’d only spoken three times, so I decided to remedy that. Here’s your chance._

_765-555-4358_

_Sincerely,_

_The delivery guy whom you professed your love to and secretly want to talk to more_

_(a.k.a – Isaac)”_

When Allison finishes reading it, she realizes that Lydia is standing behind her trying to read it over her shoulder. She heaves a sigh and turns around, handing it to Lydia, who quickly scans it and looks up grinning.

“You _have_ to call him,” she declares.

“I do not,” Allison protests.

“Yes, you do.”

“Lydia, if I end up calling him, I assure you it won’t be while he’s working and I have friends over,” Allison exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Fine,” Lydia sniffs. “But when you do call him, you have to tell me all the details. Understood?”

“Okay—wait. Who says I’m even going to call him?”

Lydia laughs and starts to leave the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Oh, you will.”

 

-

 

Four days later, Allison is staring at the two napkins on her table and an invitation to one of Lydia’s parties, with her phone in her hand. She’s been at war with herself for the last ten minutes, trying to muster up the courage to call him. Lydia’s threat echoes in her head: _“If you don’t find a date for my party, I’ll have to find one for you myself.”_ Knowing she won’t like whatever guy Lydia finds for her, she scrolls through her contacts list, finds his name and hits call.

“Hello? Who is this?” she hears on the other end.

“Uh, hi, is this Isaac? It’s Allison.”

“Oh! Hey, Allison, what’s up?”

“Um, so obviously we don’t know each other very well,” she fumbles, feeling completely stupid, “but you gave me your number and my friend Lydia is having a party that she says I need a date for… and I was wonder if you wanted to go with me?”

“Wow, first real phone call and you’re already asking me out. Bold,” Isaac comments, and Allison immediately feels like an idiot. “Anyway, we do know each other—we were lab partners for semester one in freshman year, Ms. Skibicki’s class.”

“Wait, in Beacon Hills?” Allison asks, surprised. “You’re Isaac Lahey?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”

“Oh, I remember you! You were always quite except for when you would repeatedly ask me if I was sure.” She pauses, then admits, “It was annoying as hell.”

“That sounds a lot like me,” he laughs. “If I remember correctly, you were asking something earlier?”

“Um, yeah, I was. God, I feel so stupid—will you go to a party with me?”

“I’d love to,” he replies, “but I have to ask—are you sure?”


End file.
